Once Bitten, Twice Shy
by La Caterina
Summary: Inserted episode, between episodes 3 and 4 of season 1. BASED ON MY OTHER STORY, "A HERO'S PROLOGUE." What happens when the Sheriff decides to spread the rumors of a vampire on the loose. Robin and his gang seek to stop it, and Guy forgets his past.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **_disclaimer, of course I don't own the rights to Robin Hood. _

This is a lovely little episode that takes place between episodes 3 and 4 in season 1. This time, the Sheriff is up to the same old antics, but this story follows the prologue I have written, "A Hero's Prologue." Thus, as a refresher, Catrine is Guy's wife who died months ago when he went to the Holy Land.

Enjoy! And please R&R! :)

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The thick oak doors opened with a loud squeak, causing the Sheriff to look up from the giant, dusty tome that lay on the table before him. Guy entered the library, a room seldom ever used in the castle. Dust floated everywhere and piles of books and manuscripts and parchments lay haphazardly over tables and on shelves.

"Gisborne. I'd like to consult with you … alone… if you don't mind," the Sheriff shooed away the guards that entered with Guy. The guards receded, shutting the thick doors behind them.

Guy stepped closer to the Sheriff, eying the parchments and bound books everywhere. "I thought we were to discuss the tax money, Sheriff. We are nearly 1000 pounds behind in taxes this year."

"All in good time, Gisborne." The Sheriff continued to flip through the pages of the book before him. "Tell me, what do you know about… vampires?"

"Vampires, Sheriff?" Guy asked, stepping to the table beside the Sheriff and leaning down over the book. He looked down on the page; graphic descriptions and illustrations lay illuminated on the thick and dusty page.

"Yes… nasty creatures, really," the Sheriff pointed lightly over a picture of an undead vampire covered in the blood of a dead woman in his arms. "They come out only at night, sucking the blood of sheep and goats… and people. Nothing kills them but running a wooden stake through their lifeless hearts."

"I don't understand…" Guy's gaze remained fixed on the image of the dead woman. Blood dripped down her body, streaming from the monster's fanged mouth. He shuddered.

The Sheriff's lips curled into a half-smile. "Gisborne… tell me… what wards off vampires?"

His trance breaking from the image, Guy looked over the rest of the page. "Crosses, holy water, and garlic," he listed.

The Sheriff walked around the table to face Guy. "So… if there were a scare throughout Nottingham… that some monster, say a blood-thirsty vampire, were on the loose… the people would do anything and everything they could to protect themselves? Say, even buy objects and herbs known to protect against these vile creatures?"

Guy smiled; now he understood. "I'm fairly certain that the people would buy anything for protection, for any price."

"Precisely," the Sheriff nodded, turning towards an inner door of the library. "Oh, yoo-hoo, Geoffrey!" he called, cupping his mouth with his hand.

From this inner door stepped a stout, balding man, his round body cloaked in a brown sackcloth robe.

The Sheriff flashed a smile and said with a wave of his hand, "Gisborne, meet Geoffrey Minor, the newly dubbed purveyor of relics."

The man could barely bend enough to bow; he held a small wooden box in both his arms. "A pleasure," his nasally voice echoed through the dusty room.

"Now! Show us your goodies!" the Sheriff rubbed his hands together and cleared space on the table. Geoffrey set the box down, unhooking the latch and rifling through the various objects within.

He began pulling out small vials of water. "Now, to ward off vampires, we have a variety of options of relics to sell. For a _large_ profit of course. Holy water to mark the doors…" he indicated the vials, "garlic to hang everywhere and to wear…" he pulled out foul smelling cloves and sprigs of wild garlic, "and of course the most assured method … and the most expensive … the silver cross." He pulled out several sizes of shining crosses, some for the walls and some as pendants.

"The more expensive the better," the Sheriff commented as he fingered one of the crosses.

Geoffrey Minor slapped away his hand. "Of course, as purveyor of relics, I will get a fifty percent cut in the profits…"

Guy sniffed from his stance across the table, and the Sheriff threw half a smile. "Fifty percent?"

"Where else would you get your relics from? You can't sell relics officially without a purveyor," Geoffrey's black eyes glinted with greed.

"Very well," the Sheriff backed off with an innocuous smile. "Well, Geoffrey," he said as he opened the main door. "You'll know when to begin your business. Ta-ta."

The Sheriff stared as Geoffrey left with his box and slammed the door behind him. Dust flew all over Guy, and he began to cough.

The Sheriff came over and clapped him on the back. "There, there Gisborne, I need my vampire to be in the best health possible." He spun Guy around to look him in the face. "Well, actually your health doesn't really matter, does it; you're supposedly the undead."

"How soon do you want me to begin?"

"We'll start small, just take out a few sheep, drain them of blood and place them somewhere conspicuous." The Sheriff gently traced Guy's nose and strands of his hair. "Yes, you'll make an excellent vampire, dark and always dealing and risking death."

Within his deepest thoughts, Guy startled at the Sheriff's words. Something about those words stirred his memories.

Then he was shocked out of his thoughts; the Sheriff pinched Guy's cheeks together, exposing his teeth.

"Oh, too bad. I half expected to find fangs." The Sheriff released his cheeks, and Guy massaged them. "You'll just have to settle for a dagger instead, won't you Gisborne."


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Flashback scene with Catrine, his deceased wife. Enjoy! :)_

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That night, as Guy lay in his bed, he tossed and turned. Then he remembered why the Sheriff's words touched him so deeply. He allowed himself to return to his past.

To return to her.

_The hottest day of the summer filled each breath Guy took with stifling heat and inescapable moisture. Sweat dripped everywhere on him. He had finally finished his work for the Sheriff—just a simple execution at dawn—and now he was free. Free to return home to Catrine. _

_He wiped his horse down with water quickly in the stables, washing away the foamy sweat on its back. Finally done, he walked out of the stables, wiping his own sweat from his forehead. _

"_Guy! Over here!" Catrine's voice carried over the warm breeze. _

_Guy turned towards her voice, smiling as he saw her sitting in the shade of a nearby elm tree. He couldn't resist. Despite the heat and his shortness of breath already, Guy sprinted up the hill to the tree. Catrine lounged against the tree's trunk, wearing a thin pale blue dress in an attempt to stay cool in the unbearable heat. Her laughter made Guy laugh too as he reached the top, bending over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. _

"_You fool, why do you insist on wearing leather in this heat?" Catrine stood up and walked over to Guy, laughter tinting her voice. _

_Guy straightened, still panting, smirking as Catrine drew closer. She quickly unbuckled his leather jacket, tossing it on a tree branch. Then she leaned in to kiss him, her hands beginning to lift off his sweat-soaked tunic. Guy kissed her quickly, still catching his breath, and pulled off his tunic himself. Catrine stepped away, a bit annoyed at the quick kiss, and laid on her back in the grass beneath the tree, resting her head on her arm. _

"_You aren't pleased to see me?" Guy chuckled, wiping the sweat now from his bare chest. Catrine huffed in reply, propping herself up on her elbow and cocking her head to one side. _

"_You think you're so fantastic, don't you? You think I've spent my whole morning just waiting for your return, hmm?" Her smiled flashed across her face, taunting him with her words. Guy smiled as he watched her lie back down, resting both her arms beneath her head. He couldn't resist her. In one fluid movement, he laid down on her. _

"_I don't think you've been waiting for me, I know you have," he whispered through his smirk and began kissing her deeply and passionately, feeling her lips part beneath his. He moved to her neck, kissing his way lower and lower._

_Catrine laughed once her mouth was free. "You know, this won't help us keep cool."_

"_That was never my intention, my love," his deep voice tickling her neck. _

"_Well, it is mine," Catrine said, trying to push him off, her hands braced against his broad shoulders. Guy only laughed. Catrine huffed again, and then to Guy's surprise, she suddenly gathered her strength and rolled him over. She smiled for a moment, then she lifted herself off him, moving against the trunk of the tree, her arms folded in front of her. _

_Guy sat up; he loved when she played with him like this. Smiling, Guy stood—he had a brilliant plan. "So, you want to stay cool, do you? Then do you trust me?"_

"_No," Catrine laughed, and then turned to run down the hill back towards the manor. _

_Guy chased after her; "Perfect," he thought as he ran. He easily caught up to her, grabbed her hand and pulled her into the stables. He mounted on her horse's bare back and extended his hand to Catrine. _

_She smiled and mounted the horse behind him, wrapping her hands around his waist. Guy laughed to himself; she'd probably kill him if she knew where he was taking her, smiling at a distant memory from their childhood. He rode the horse quickly towards Sherwood Forest, under the cool shade of all the trees. He had one spot in mind: a stream deep in the woods where the water was shallow and slow flowing. A perfect way to fight the heat. _

_Catrine kept peering over his shoulder at the forest in front of them, "Where are we going, Guy?" _

_Guy only laughed, pleased that she had no clue where he was taking her. He finally slowed the horse, hearing the sound of flowing water nearby. _

"_We're here," Guy said as he jumped off his horse, reaching to help Catrine down from the horse's bare back. _

_Her face was hard and serious. "Is that water I hear?"_

"_Trust me." Guy pulled her down from her waist, easing her to the forest floor. _

"_Guy," her voice was still and quiet. "You know I can't swim. Remember how I almost drowned as a child? You were there." _

_Catrine wouldn't meet his eyes, so Guy stepped close, wrapping one arm around her and turning her face gently towards him with the other. "Trust me. This water is perfect for you. It's shallow enough and there is no current. You'll have me there, and, besides, the water will be far cooler than this heat." He wiped the sweat dripping down her face. _

_He could see she was giving in, and he smiled, leading her by the hand to the water's edge. Sitting down on a rock, Guy removed his boots, and he watched Catrine slowly slip off her own shoes and walk to the gently lapping water. _

_She gingerly stepped in with one foot. Then the other. She lifted her skirt higher and walked deeper into the water till the water reached her knees. _

_Guy waded into the water to the knees of his pants. He laughed as Catrine tried to keep her dress dry, lifting it higher out of the water so that her thigh began to show. "Such immodest behavior for my wife to exhibit in public," Guy teased._

"_I just don't want to get too wet." _

_Guy laughed, quickly wading deeper then diving under the water. _

"_Guy!" Catrine called out, and she began to wade deeper after him. The water came up to her hips, and her dress's hem in her hand began to get wet. She huffed, then she felt something touching her legs. A hand?_

_Guy popped out of the water right next to her, splashing water all over Catrine. She squealed in shock as Guy simply laughed. "It's not funny!" she yelled at him as she dropped her dress in to the water, giving up all hope of keeping it dry._

"_It is too, and don't you feel cooler now?" He splashed her again. _

_Catrine was trying hard not to laugh or smile at him, suppressing it with all her strength. Finally, she gave in, erupting in joy. "Much cooler." _

_Then her eyes flashed, and she splashed Guy back, right in the face. He startled backward as the water went in his eyes. He blinked it away, only to find Catrine's hands on his shoulders, pushing him into the water with all her strength. Water enveloped him. He stroked once to get to the surface and flicked his head to get the water off his face. _

"_Now, that wasn't very nice," his voice deepened as he waded closer to her towards the shore. "You wouldn't want someone to do that to you now, would you?"_

"_You wouldn't! Guy, I can't swim!" she began wading towards the shallows._

"_Well, there's no better time to learn…" he dove under water, swimming to get to her faster. Emerging from the water, he grabbed her around her waist and began pulling her into the deeper water. She screamed and she flailed, but she couldn't free herself from his hold. _

"_Guy! You'll kill me! Don't!" _

_Guy felt her body begin to float more. "Trust me and relax. Just let yourself float; I'll hold on to you." Her hands latched on to his arms, scared he'd let go. "Rest your head on my shoulder."_

_She did, and Guy felt her body lift to the surface of the water. "Guy…" her voice quivered in fear. _

"_That's it. You're floating. See?" He kissed her forehead. _

"_Yes, I see, but I don't like it. Put me down!" Catrine began flailing in his grip. The water was too deep for Guy to get a good footing; Catrine's scream was the last sound he heard before he slipped under the water. He felt Catrine swim frantically from his arms, and he stroked through the water to try to find her. _

_He came to the surface, "Catrine!" he called. _

"_Guy!" Catrine screamed back from a few yards off. Then her head disappeared underwater. _

_Guy's mind raced; he waded quickly to where she was, diving down, feeling for any part of her. He felt fabric, then an arm. He grabbed on tightly and dragged her to the surface. _

_His head broke the surface of the water. Gasping, he pulled her out of the water, sighing in relief as he heard her gasp for air too. She turned around in the water to face him, grasping around his neck. Guy felt the streambed beneath his feet. They were safe. _

_Guy walked her to the shallow water, setting her on her feet. She clung tightly to him, her breath catching in her throat still. _

"_I'm sorry," was all Guy could say as she trembled in his arms. He kissed the top of her wet hair, holding her tightly to his bare chest. He felt her breathing steady. _

"_You were right about one thing, Guy," her voice still quivering from shock. "I'm not hot anymore." _

_Guy turned to look at her, tears in her eyes and wet hair streaked across her face. "I'm sorry, Catrine."_

_She smiled at him, brushing her own hair from her face. "Guy, since I've married you, since I've even met you, when have we ever not risked death? Hmm?" She kissed him as he led her back to land. _


	3. Chapter 3

"Robin!" Much shouted as he ran over the leaf-covered hills of Sherwood Forest, calling for Robin until he ran up to the camp. Ten feet short, he tripped over a tree root and skidded to a halt covered in leaves. He panted for a minute, stretching out and shaking off his fall.

"Well?" Robin called from where he sat on a rock; he got up to pull Much to his feet. "With that entrance, I expect there to be either… a tax convoy approaching, or…. let's see… a important messenger from the King is arriving… or…"

Much mumbled something indecipherable under his breath. Allan slapped him on the back. "Speak up, Much."

"I SAID VAMPIRES!"

John stepped closer, clutching his walking stick tightly, Will walked out from behind a tree, and Robin let go of Much's hand.

"Vampires? What do you mean, Much?"

"Oh, you know, those undead monsters that feed on blood! A whole dozen sheep were killed in Locksley last night. Each had its neck torn and all the blood was drained. Not a drop was left. I don't know about you… but to _me_ that screams vampires."

"Vampires don't exist. And you know it Much." Robin grabbed his arm.

"Yeah there is, I've seen it." Allan stepped forward. "Vampires are nasty creatures. One killed my grandfather a long time ago. There's no way to kill them cause they're already dead. You can only ward them off with religious stuff. And garlic."

Much ran for a basket on the other side of the camp. "I have garlic, I have garlic!" He fished through the basket, grabbing at the sprigs of wild garlic, waving them through the air.

"Allan. Why should we believe you? There's no such thing as vampires," Robin took the garlic from Much's hands and threw it to the forest floor. "It's just a superstition, and we know they don't exist. They're just a myth!"

But at that moment, the entire gang froze. A single wolf howled somewhere in the distant forest.

Allan stiffened the most, rigid in his place. "That's how it started with my grandfather… Vampires can disguise themselves as wolves. And then it's too late."

John grabbed his dagger and began whittling away the end of his walking stick; wood shavings flew everywhere. He didn't stop till the top of his stick was filed into a fine point, a wooden stake. He thumped it once on the ground once for emphasis.

"See, John's got the right idea," Much said as he began searching through the bushes for the sprigs of garlic. Robin's foot came down gently on Much's hand as he tried to pick up the sprig.

"Everybody. I want you all to think… logically. Now, where were the sheep killed?"

Much pulled his hand out from under Robin's foot. "In Locksley, of course. I just _told_ you."

"And who do we all know who lives in Locksley, and would want to scare the people into a frenzy?"

"Gisborne," Will finally spoke up, clutching at his axe. "It must be some kind of plot by the Sheriff."

"Right," Robin said, stretching out his bowstring. "One's thing's for sure, though. There's something funny about these sheep. We'll need to know what the Sheriff's up to, and I know just the person to ask." He flashed a charming smile as he spun on his heel.

"To Knighton Hall, then, master?" Much asked, hiding the garlic in his pockets.

"Yes," Robin said with a small laugh. "And I saw that, Much…"

"I'm only going to use it for dinner. Well, some of it anyway…" Much said, tucking a thin piece behind his ear.


	4. Chapter 4

Marian awoke suddenly to an arrow flying through her window faster than her eyes could follow properly, to strike the wall above her bed. She frowned, and got out of bed in a huff. She yanked the arrow from her wall and strode down the stairs and ran out a few paces into the woods behind Knighton Hall.

"What?" She shouted irritably at the greenery, peering into the morning sunlight.

"Were you still sleeping?" Robin laughed, coming out from behind a nearby tree, leaning on his bow.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was. My father has been ill, and I stayed up with him."

"Naturally," Robin grinned at her, "What do you know about the deaths of all the sheep in the Locksley?"

"You cannot just come here, risking my father's and my safety," Marian continued, undaunted.

"What do you know about the sheep?" Robin repeated with exaggerated patience.

"What sheep?" She was finally listening, "My father has been ill, I haven't heard about any dead sheep, what are you talking about?"

"Good God Marian, if you are to be my eyes and ears here…"

"If I am to be _your_ eyes and ears," she scoffed, interrupting him.

"I didn't mean…"

"No I know exactly what you meant," she cut him off again. "Some of us still have responsibilities; some of us still live in the real world, and haven't run off to play games in the forest."

"I thought you cared about your people; I thought you were willing to risk your comfort and safety for them. Apparently not, and if you are not, then you are worthless Marian."

"Don't waste your arrows," she spat back at him, tossing the arrow at his feet. She began to walk away.

"I'll see what I can find out," she called angrily over her shoulder.

Robin smiled and walked back into the trees. And almost right into John.

"Find out anything?" Allan asked, a silver crucifix around his neck that had certainly not been there before. "My guess is that Marian doesn't know a thing about the vampires. How can she? You only know it when you've seen it before, like me."

"Allan, I don't believe you for one second," Robin said, placing the arrow from Marian back in his quiver. "There are no such things as vampires!"

"Then how do you explain the fact that an official purveyor of relics is in Locksley right now selling all sorts of things against vampires, hmm?" Allan held up his cross for Robin to see.

Much walked over to look at it closer, "Real silver?"

"Yeah, paid a whole two shillings for it."

Will walked up and pulled the cross away from Allan's neck, breaking the chain with a metallic snap. He narrowed his eyes at Allan, then turned to hand Robin the necklace. "The Sheriff's work," was all he said.

"If people are paying shillings to ward off vampires, how will they afford to eat?" Robin said as he held up the cross in front of his face. "This purveyor must be stopped. He must be working for the Sheriff."

"There's no proof of that, Master," Much said, grabbing the cross from Robin. "We can't rob a real purveyor of relics. They work for the _church_. What if the threat _is_ real?"

"Then we'll just have to find out, won't we, Much." Robin said with half a smile on his face. He shook his head as he looked over his gang: Allan fumbled with his cross, John still held his staff/stake, Much still held garlic behind his ear, and Will only stayed silently clutching his axe's handle. "If my men are this scared, what will the people of Locksley do?" he thought to himself as he turned towards his hometown.


	5. Chapter 5

"Be prepared for the Day of Judgment! Ward off the Devil with these! Become free from the threat of vampires!" Geoffrey Minor, purveyor of relics, stood in the bed of his cart, surrounded by chests and barrels filled with garlic, crosses and holy water. He beckoned to the people of Locksley, opening his arms wide, his brown robe stirring in the breeze.

No one came forward. They simply continued on with whatever they were doing before the cart rolled up.

"Have you not wondered why you are being punished by the supernatural, why so many sheep have died?" Geoffrey's oily voice grew louder and higher, beginning to crack.

A man walked up to the cart, his face obscured by a hood "You must not be from here, stranger. Things and people die here all the time. This is Nottinghamshire."

Geoffrey bent low, holding up a silver crucifix to the man, trying to peer into the faceless hood, "You will learn to fear the undead, my man."

The man shrugged and walked away. His red cape trailed behind him. Geoffrey watched as he walked away into a house. He huffed and grabbed the cart's reigns.

Flicking the reigns, the cart pulled away, and the purveyor of relics shouted one last time, "You will all learn to fear the undead!"

At that moment, Will Scarlett ran from the house, no longer cloaked in red, and ran into the forest line.

"Robin, he's leaving, heading towards Nottingham."

Robin nodded, "Good work Will. Now everyone, we run silently along the road. Keep the cart in sight, and follow it into Nottingham." He turned away, clutching his bow and running beside his gang. He had to make the Sheriff pay for this, with or without Marian's help.

***

Once in Nottingham, Robin and his men stole silently through the crowds of people and animals towards the castle, their faces cloaked with their hoods.

They hid behind market stalls and barrels, watching the cart rattle through the castle's gate. In the courtyard, Robin saw troupes of the Sheriff's men surrounding the cart.

"You see," Robin turned to his gang, "it's all the Sheriff's doing. There is nothing to fear."

"Well," Much said to Robin, "you've proved that the purveyor is with the Sheriff. But that still doesn't convince me about the… v-.. v-vampires."

John nodded his agreement, pounding his pointed staff on the ground for emphasis.

Robin threw his hands in the air. "Fine! We'll just have to wait and see, won't we. Maybe Marian will find something for us. But you are all a big group of superstitious babies!"

***

In the castle, the heavy oak doors to the Great Hall opened as Geoffrey Minor strode in with a leather bag carried in one hand. The Sheriff stood up from his seat at the other end, beckoning Guy to do the same from where he sat at a table.

"And how goes the relic business, Geoffrey? Are people flocking to you for salvation from evil vampires?" the Sheriff asked in playful tones, pointing to Guy with the last words.

Guy crossed his arms and sniffed. "How much have you made?" he asked, nodding to the leather bag.

"Well, that's the real thing isn't it?" Geoffrey coyly tossed the bag from one hand to the other. "Your share of the profit is really more dependent on the scared masses than on my selling abilities, isn't it? The people simply are not scared."

"What do you mean?" Guy growled, stepping forward towards Geoffrey.

"What I mean, Sir Guy is that people will not be afraid of six dead sheep. You haven't followed the legend very closely. Vampires don't really eat sheep. If you want to scare the people into a frenzy, you'll need to hunt more… dramatic… prey."

The Sheriff leaned into Guy from beside him, "I think he wants you to kill… people… is that right, Geoffrey?"

The purveyor gave a sickly smile and dipped his head once in a nod. "What are but a few dead peasants really?"

Guy's lips parted in a sneer, and he stepped forward, taking the moneybag from Geoffrey's hands. "That is my job. You just focus on selling your goods. Now, get out," Guy barked the last order.

Geoffrey startled a moment, backing away from Guy's face, bowing once, and then sliding out the door of the hall.

"He does have a point, you know, Gisborne," said the Sheriff as he took the bag from Guy, opening it and fingering the metal coins. "Money always comes at a price. And so does loyalty, Gisborne."

"I am loyal, Sheriff. And killing a couple of peasants won't prove my loyalty any more than everything I have always done for you," Guy narrowed his eyes and gripped the hilt of his sword.

"Yes… all the things you've always done for me…" the Sheriff muttered after a moment. "You know, I remember my Lieutenant never having any issue with a mission such as this one. In fact, my Lieutenant used to basically jump for joy at the opportunity. Isn't that so true of you, Gisborne… or am I remembering someone else?" the Sheriff's face twisted into a smile. He watched as Guy's gloved hand tightened on his hilt.

Guy sighed and let go of his sword. He mouthed one name, "Catrine."

"Isn't it fun to remember the past, Gisborne? Just think. It'll be just like old times."

Guy shot him one final glance before he left the hall, slamming the oaken doors behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

The grass, slick with night's dew, silenced Guy's footsteps, creeping towards the sheep pen outside of Locksley. Two nights in a row now without sleep, and Guy had to continue his work. Just to make the Sheriff happy. And yet, he thought to himself, he could not bring himself just to murder without reason. In all his work for the Sheriff, he never once killed the innocent. Not killed. Torture was different, so long as it was for a reason. But killing without reason was something even _she_ would never ask of him, he thought with a slight smile on his face.

He could hear the bleating of sheep already. And he took a deep breath, trying to strengthen himself for a long night of work and blood. Opening the sheep pen, Guy stole silently among the sheep. The creatures slowly shied away from him. Guy looked over the remaining sheep, picking out a thin sheep newly sheered, and he walked over to the sheep, trapping it against the fence.

The sheep let out one fearful bleat as Guy quickly knelt down beside the animal, wrapping its neck in the crook of his arm. Its neck snapped with a sickening crack as Guy jerked his arm upwards with a quite grunt.

Guy stood, grabbing the small sheep, carrying it in both arms, and he left the pen, walking back towards the houses of Locksley. He craned his neck back in frustration and under the weight of the dead animal. Now his bloody work begins, he thought. He hated the smell of sheep's blood, and he now had to drain the carcass, catching the blood in large tubs, which he would later pour into some stream. It didn't matter where.

He could see the shed on the edge of the town, and Guy grunted as he readjusted the dead sheep in his arms.

" 'ey! Wha' you doin'?" a voice called from beside him. Guy froze. He can't be caught in this.

"Is tha' one o'my sheep?" the boy asked and began walking closer to Guy.

Guy sneered into the darkness. The shepherd boy came closer, and Guy could not be recognized by the boy. Or he at least couldn't let him live to tell the tale.

Suddenly, Guy turned, throwing the dead sheep at the boy who fell under the force. Guy didn't have time to even draw his sword; instead, he stood straddling over the boy, pinned to the ground. He gripped the boy's soft throat in his bare hand; he squeezed as the boy choked under his hold. Guy watched as the boy's eyes widened in panic, feeling the boy's weak hands try to pry away his own hand which choked the life out of the youth. With one final squeeze, the boy's breathing stopped and the life left his eyes.

Guy let go, and began to slowly stand up. He looked at his hand, clutching it into a fist. "What have I done?" he whispered, looking up to the starless night sky. He had done what the Sheriff wanted him to. He had killed an innocent boy. And even the stars couldn't shine down on him. Stars which had for so long preserved his memories had vanished under the clouds.

He looked at the dead boy, bending down to close his eyelids over his lifeless eyes. Now he had to clean his mess, now he had two bodies to drain of blood. It would be another sleepless night.

***

In his bedroom in Locksley Manor, Guy dressed himself in fresh clothes—ones that didn't reek of blood and sweat. He pulled a clean black tunic over his head, looking at his reflection in the metal sheet on his wall. He had changed over the year. He touched his cheekbone, tracing over its hardness, then he gently touched the dark circles under his eyes and pulled his long hair away from his face. "This is the face of a murderer," he thought to himself. "My face."

Each time he looked at his reflection, he half expected to see hers beside him as it had for so long. He hung his head, remembering her standing in front of Locksley Manor in the dim morning light. "I killed her too," he thought with shame, his mind still filled with the blame and anger that overwhelmed him ever since he had returned from the Holy Land. He still couldn't forgive himself for leaving her, leaving her to die alone. And in blood. But he also couldn't forgive her for leaving him, for giving up and dying.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. His mind remained in his sleepless fog, but he turned to look out the bedroom window. Nothing seemed real. He could almost hear her screaming in pain on the bed behind him in the thunder's deep roll.

He shut his eyes, and saw the Sheriff's face, grinning at Guy's work, at his loyalty, at his ultimate capture—trapped as his Lieutenant. Nothing was the same anymore. In his mind, the Sheriff's face fell away, and Guy saw Robin Hood, dressed in his Crusader uniform, hunching over his wife's dead body which lay surrounded by sand. Blood was everywhere. Guy pressed his hands over his eyes, shutting them tighter. Robin turned around, and shot an arrow past his head, Robin's green eyes glowing in anger. Then the green eyes became the frightened eyes of the shepherd boy, staring in pure fear as Guy crushed his throat.

"No!" Guy screamed. And he kneeled to the ground, still covering his eyes. "Where has my forgiveness gone? Where is my salvation?" he wondered, feeling tears beginning to drip from his eyes. "She's dead, and with her, my one chance at salvation is also… dead."

He had to escape, had to remember, had to leave.

His eyes flashed open, and he almost ran down the steps and into the night. One place could bring him sanity, bring him hope, bring him happiness. His hill.


	7. Chapter 7

Marian woke in the pale darkness before morning. She had not slept well, her father had still been coughing much in the night and each time she was awakened she had debated whether or not to go to him. He was such a proud man, and she didn't want him to know how much his coughs disturbed her sleep, or how much she worried about him. They may have fought in her childhood and adolescence, but when Robin left, he had been the only person she could rely on. And now he needed her, Robin had to come second now. It was only fair.

She dressed in the darkness and snuck out her window, her dress making it difficult to make it to the ground safely. But she could not risk being seen as the Night Watchman today, not when tensions were already so high with the death of the sheep and that ridiculous excuse for a purveyor lurking around. She was ready to do some lurking herself. She crept down the familiar road to Locksley, preferring to go on foot rather than risk waking someone in the house by going to the stables and saddling her horse. By the time she reached the outskirts of Locksley she felt easily more at peace. Even though Locksley had more recent painful memories, she was never able to shake the feeling that as she crested the last small hill and looked down on the town, that she had come home.

Marian casually strolled through a few pastures before coming to a barn that was still far from the town's center. She was immediately assaulted by a horrible smell of rotting meat. She rushed into the barn and choked on the fetid air that surrounded her. There were vats of blood, some congealed and some fresh, which flies flickered over and around lazily. Hanging from the ceiling were two sheep's carcasses, hanging over the vat of freshest blood. Her stomach turned as she saw a rusty carving knife on a stool nearby, and the animal detritus on the ground at her feet. 'I guess I've found the place then,' she thought to herself. She hastily left the barn, dusting off her clothes and wiping off her hands on the grass, feeling like she was dirty just from stepping in the place.

The thunder rolled in the distance as she set off for home again; feeling satisfied to have at least some information to tell Robin if and when he ever decided he needed her again and came by for the news. She still seethed at the thought of their recent argument. As she walked along, as she came up a pleasant hillside, she saw a familiar dark figure standing there. She grimaced and bravely continued, preparing her best Maid Marian smile.

"Good morning, Sir Guy," she murmured as she passed before the place he stood.

"A bit early for a pleasure stroll isn't it?" his voice deep and his face shrouded in the darkness.

She paused on the path, biting her lip to maintain patience.

"Or is this stroll not a pleasurable one for you?" Guy asked, still staring into the storm clouds in the dark early morning sky.

"You guess right I believe. I see you are deep in thought, I will leave you." She turned to go.

Guy took a deep breath, "Marian."

She waited and turned to face him as he stood with his arms crossed, but now meeting her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, staring deep into her eyes.

"Sir Guy?"

She saw his jaw clench. "For everything. I have been…" his deep voice trailed off, softer than a whisper.

She took a step towards him, seeing him tense as she approached. She stopped and suddenly realized what she was doing. As she stopped, he took two steps towards her.

He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him, "Please, don't say any more. I understand."

She couldn't bring herself to say the words 'I forgive you', but she hoped that he could see it in her eyes.

"I want you to trust me," he said, "I want us to be friends."

"It's a bit hard to trust a pawn of the Sheriff's. I must go."

Guy lunged out and grabbed her arm and drew her closer. His voice was barely still above a whisper. The look in his eye was ardent but cold.

"I'm the one who's been killing the sheep. The Sheriff has hired the purveyor as a new source of income to balance out the debt. But there's something else…" he paused and looked to the ground, breaking his gaze from hers.

After a few moments he looked up and continued, "There was a boy. When I went to kill the…animals…I…found…a shepherd boy. He was dead."

Marian nodded. He spoke again, louder this time, his grip tightening on her arm, "You must believe me, it wasn't my fault."

"I do believe you, Sir Guy," she tried to turn from his hold.

"Marian," he whispered. She turned back at the way he spoke her name and suddenly became lost in his eyes. They seemed so sad, and filled with a quiet anger and hurt that she understood.

He leaned in closer and brushed the loose strands of hair from her face. She felt the warmth of his breath on her face and froze, desire and conscience fighting within her. One coherent thought surfaced, she had to tell Robin. She looked down.

"I…must be going. My father is…"

Her voice trailed off and she felt Guy release her arm.

"I won't keep you then."

She turned, and began to walk home, her heart pounding in her chest. As soon as she was far enough away from him she began to run, not once looking back at the lone figure atop the hill. She told herself she was running to get out of the brewing storm, but that wasn't the real reason and she knew it.


	8. Chapter 8

Guy watched as Marian's shadow receded into the distance. She was so soothing, so calming, and so innocent. If she could forgive him, his sins would be washed away. If he could win her love, he could save himself.

Then his mind went empty, simply staring at the countryside darkened by the storm clouds. He looked to the sky.

A single patch of early morning sky broke through the black clouds, a few remaining morning stars shone down on Guy. His eyes widened and his heart raced. "What am I doing?" he thought in his inner panic. He felt his heart rent in two, part longing for the future and part clinging desperately to his past. Marian and Catrine.

This was Catrine's place, her hill under the thin sheet of stars above him. But she was not here. Now there was only shame.

Guy felt a rain drop land on his cheek, the raindrop then joining the single tear that rolled down his cheek. He wiped away the moisture, and then he turned, breaking into a run towards one spot outside the village. The cemetery.

Rain began to fall slowly as Guy picked his away between the graves, winding past the wooden crosses and up a slight hill. Catrine's grave. Guy knelt on the grave facing her cross, dragging his fingers through the dirt, pulling up the loose sprigs of grass that began to sprout in the dirt. He felt the raindrops trickling down his head, his face and his neck.

"Why, Catrine? I still don't understand," he whispered to her, grabbing handfuls of dirt, feeling the grains run from his palms. "You were always the one to tell me what to do, how to act… but now, I'm lost." He looked at the cross before him, "Tell me. What should I do now?"

Silence. Guy dug into the earth with both hands. He felt anger and shame rising within him. Shame at what he had almost done with Marian moments before on the hill. He could almost see Catrine now, her brown eyes staring into him. She had always been right. Right about power, right about Robin, right about Marian.

"Marian," he thought. Lightning lit up the sky and the roll of thunder reverberated in his chest.

Then his anger at Catrine overwhelmed him. She had abandoned him to a fate worse than death, but now she was free wherever she was now. A freedom he would never find ever again. Now his happiness was dead, now his salvation was dead. And it was all her fault.

"Marian," he thought again. He smirked towards the ground, towards where Catrine lay in earth, "We took everything from Robin. Except for one thing: Marian. And now, I can take her too. Take her right before Robin's cocky, arrogant face." He leaned down, his faces just inches above the dirt. "And all because you aren't here anymore."

He straightened himself and took a fistful of dirt. Opening his palm, he kissed the earth, closed his eyes, then threw it back to the ground.

"You are finally dead to me," he growled.


	9. Chapter 9

Marian burst through the front door of Knighton Hall and swung to the right, ready to fly up the stairs and into her bedroom so she could be alone to think, but her father stopped her,

"Marian," he called, "Did you hear about the boy that was murdered in Locksley?"

Marian cleared her throat and stopped on the step she was standing on, "Of course I have, everyone's heard that."

She tapped her fingers against the railing impatiently.

"Have you by any chance heard from Robin lately?"

Heat rushed into her face and her heart raced, immediately sure he had somehow heard or seen Robin come by.

"No. Why?"

"I just thought he might be upset after one of his own townspeople was murdered, and I thought he might seek you out."

"No Father, it isn't like that with him."

"I'm not blind Marian. Things are not so different now from the way they were five years ago, you with him. Not as different as they might seem."

"They are very different Father. More different than you can possibly imagine," she snapped in return, and stomped up the stairs away from him, still overwhelmed by her encounter with Guy on the hill.

She opened the door to her room and slammed it behind her, only to turn and find Robin there.

She groaned loudly, her fingers flying to her temples, "You have no right to come here unannounced like this."

"Interesting conversation between you and your father. Very loud, very interesting conversation," Robin commented, casually pacing the room.

"The Sheriff has ordered Guy to kill the sheep so that this purveyor can sell his relics and make money for the Sheriff's never-ending campaigns. The boy was already dead when Guy got there."

"And you believe him?" He challenged her.

She stood with her hands on her hips, and for a moment Robin felt truly afraid of her.

"I don't know what to believe," she replied harshly.

Robin nodded and looked down. He couldn't win with her. She was so hard and cold. He looked up to see her trembling with an emotion he couldn't quite place. Couldn't quite place until she had suddenly crossed the room to him and taken his hands in hers.

"I don't know what to believe," she repeated in a whisper, and pulled him down to kiss her.

He felt himself reel and fight against her in the moment of surprise and then completely melt. It had been years since…

He was further shocked as her lips furiously parted his and her tongue was insistent upon his and soon they were entangled in a pattern of kissing that had only led to one thing. He felt her fingers twisting in his hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned in frustration and gently pulled away.

"Marian, I have to go, but I will return and we will continue this."

She sighed and immediately composed herself, resuming the cool exterior he had seen since he had returned to England. His heart lurched to see the façade return so soon, but he had to go. He kissed her on the forehead and left.

She stood reeling in the center of her bedroom, one hand clutched over her heart, and the other clenched in her hair. She would not be mastered by this.


	10. Chapter 10

Robin stood on top of the highest hill outside of Locksley, waiting for the rest of his gang to come over the crest. He shook his head; he had fought so long to return to this place, only to have everything he ever loved about it changed and destroyed. But the people were still the same, and they were his cause.

Much grabbed his elbow, "Gang's all here, Robin."

Robin turned around, "Let's see what the damage is. Gisborne left this morning with all his men, so we're free to help these people."

He looked over at John and Allan, their arms weighed down with baskets of bread and casks of ale. Robin thought as he walked about how hard his men had been to convince. Much especially. Only after a good deal of logic, and of course yelling, did they finally give up on their fear of vampires. Robin chuckled a bit to himself, laughing at just how gullible they could be.

They began walking into the town when the sound of bells rang from Locksley chapel. The doors opened and crowds of people began to fill the space outside the church. In the middle of the crowd, four men carried a long wooden box. They began walking towards the cemetery.

"The dead shepherd boy, like Marian told us," Will said, stopping beside the crowd.

Robin nodded and began moving towards the crowd; he walked up to the mother who stood watching the coffin be carried away, crying uncontrollably on her husband's shoulder.

The crowd parted in front of him and his gang, and whispers of "Robin Hood" passed from person to person around him. Robin gave a slight smile. Reaching the mother, he placed his hand on her shoulder, offering a small purse with the other.

"I'm sorry about your son," Robin's voice spoke soothingly.

The mother narrowed her tear-filled eyes at him, "Money won't bring him back from the dead. Nor will it protect us from the undead." She pushed the bag back at Robin.

"The undead?" Robin cocked his head slightly in disbelief.

The mother began choking on her tears, "My… son… they fed on my son! My baby, killed by vampires." She buried her face back into her husband's shoulder.

"Your son was not killed by vampires," Robin said.

Suddenly the father found his voice, "Then how do you explain why our son was… drained… drained of blood? Just like those damn sheep!"

Robin looked to his men, his eyes wide, shocked they didn't believe him. Will stepped beside Robin, "Gisborne was the one to kill all the sheep. He drained the blood himself, right here, in Locksley."

The crowd began to murmur loudly. "Where?!" a voice called out from somewhere in the group. "We've seen nothing!" another shouted.

Robin marched off in the direction of the barn Marian described, the one at the edge of the town. His gang followed closely behind him, the crowd also in tow. At the door to the shed, Robin stood, pointing to the door. "In here. Gisborne is fooling you all, scaring you into submission. The Sheriff is scaring you into buying cures. He's stealing your money!"

John went to open the large wooden doors, flinging them wide open. He stood aside, letting the grieving couple enter. "See for yourself," Robin said as they walked through the doors.

After a moment, the couple stepped back through the door. "What is your point here, Robin? There is nothing here that proves Sir Guy guilty. No sheep, no blood," the father walked straight up to Robin, his fists clenched in rage.

"What? What do you mean?" Robin asked, his face lined in anger. He stormed into the barn, the gang right behind him. "Where is everything?" Robin asked. Searching around the room, the gang found empty barrels and empty tubs. Hooks hung from the ceiling, but no sheep, and no sheep's blood either.

Robin kicked over an empty tub beside him, "Gisborne," he growled. "He cleaned up here first."

Much put his hand on Robin's shoulder, "It's alright, Master. I believe you, and the people will too. If you just… explain things to them."

"It's not that simple, Much!" Robin yelled as he stormed out of the barn. He stopped in front of Allan, seeing the cross around his neck again, his entire frame shaking in rage.

"We must stop the purveyor," Robin growled. "If the people won't believe us, then we get rid of the person taking their money."

He stepped outside, expecting an inquisition from the crowd. Instead, he found they had all left, running to the road where a dark mass of people approached Locksley.

Will ran up from that direction, "The purveyor, Robin. He's here, and he's armed with over a dozen guards," he panted. "We've got to get out of here."

Robin huffed, "We've got to stop this man from taking the people's money! It's a hoax! And the people don't believe it!"

"We're too far outnumbered to make a stand here, Robin," Will added, his eyes wide in fear.

"Yeah," Allan agreed. "Why not just ambush them on the road? Element of surprise and all?"

Robin nodded. "That's just what we'll do. Let's move," he ordered, running over the hill.


	11. Chapter 11

"My, don't you look rather worse for wear, Gisborne?" the Sheriff smiled from behind his large desk in his quarters, sunlight streaming through the windows behind him.

"Two nights of playing vampire is enough for me, Sheriff," Guy said as he sat in the chair opposite the Sheriff. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, trying to get rid of the exhausting pain. "The undead don't need sleep, but I do."

"Yes, well, good work on the boy. You always were one to capitalize on a situation," the Sheriff watched Guy stiffen in his chair. A twisted smile crossed his face, "Don't let your conscience play games with you, Guy. The boy was in your way… and well… I knew you fit this vampire roll well."

Guy's cold grey eyes looked back up at the Sheriff, staring back filled with both shame and cruelty.

The Sheriff continued to speak, despite Guy's moody looks. "You know, thanks to that little boy's…passing on, people from all over the shire have been patronizing our friend, Geoffrey Minor. Word of the vampire's last meal has spread like wildfire, really. Already, he's turned in large profit, and that's just our portion." The Sheriff gestured to the piles of coins on the table.

He leaned down into Guy's gaze, waiting till he focused on him. "Now, if this is _our_ share, imagine just how much we could make without our friend, hmm?"

Guy smirked half-heartedly, "I imagine we'd make exactly double that, unless he's cheating us."

"Exactly," the Sheriff pointed his finger at Guy only inches from his face. "Cut out the middle man and increase profit." The Sheriff straightened up, "Sounds like a plan to me, Gisborne. And I literally mean… cut."

Guy stood up, "How am I supposed to remove him when he is guarded by our own men, Sheriff?"

The Sheriff simply smiled, "You're a clever one, Gisborne. Just order them away, they are our men after all. Call them back to the castle quickly, then take more men and set an ambush. It's really quite a simple procedure, Gisborne."

Guy craned his neck backwards again, "And where would you have me set the ambush, my lord?"

"Well, I would think, in my _vast_ experience with this, that the road between Locksley and Nottingham would be perfect," the Sheriff stood on his toes to look at Guy right in the eye, "But don't let me tell you how to do… your job… Gisborne."

Guy smirked, "Of course not, Sheriff." He bowed and walked out the door of the Sheriff's chambers.

Geoffrey was pleased as he sat back on the seat of his cart. Stupid peasants from Locksley had nearly wiped him out of his relics. "It's alright," he thought to himself, "Holy water is easily faked, and crosses of any kind will sell extremely well." He turned to look at the treasures behind him: chests once filled with stinking garlic now overflowed in gold and silver coins of every size. "The Sheriff can't possibly need even half of this," he thought, grabbing a handful and putting it in his own purse.

At that moment, a small troupe of soldiers rode up to him, riding through his own protective guards. "Geoffrey Minor," one guard addressed him. "We are here to replace your guard for the journey back to Nottingham. These men are needed for a very important matter for the Sheriff in the town of Klun. They must depart immediately."

Geoffrey distrusted this action, "Now?" his nasally voice asked.

"Now, by order of the Sheriff, sir."

"I guess I have no choice in the matter then."

"None," said another guard, his voice deep and gravelly.

Geoffrey turned to look at the guard, but before he could say anything, the head guard began ordering all the men to depart for Klun. Geoffrey shook his head and whipped up his horses, knowing just how badly the Sheriff wanted his share of the profits. The Sheriff wouldn't endanger the money simply out of selfishness, Geoffrey thought.

The cart rattled its way down the road out of Locksley as the Sheriff's men turned to follow behind the cart.

Allan ran up to Robin as the gang lay in wait for the purveyor's cart and soldiers to rattle by.

"They're coming, Robin," Allan panted and drew his sword from his scabbard.

Robin drew two arrows from his quiver, placing them both on the bowstring. "Alright, you take care of the guards. I'll get the purveyor and we'll use him to ensure our escape. We need him alive; his confession will prove to all the people of Nottingham that the only undead monsters draining blood from anything are Gisborne and the Sheriff feeding on the poor people of this land." Robin's voice grew with his passion. This would put an end to the Sheriff's scheme.

The rattle of wheels and the sounds of horses began to echo through the trees around the road. Robin nodded to his men, and they scattered.

Hiding behind a large oak, Robin peered down the road, his eyes opening wide when he saw that only three guards accompanied the cart, a cart piled with chests that chinked of money.

Only three guards would make this heist easier, but Robin still wondered what the Sheriff was up to with this game.

He really didn't have time to reconsider, "Now or never," Robin thought. Springing out from behind the tree, Robin let his two arrows fly through the air, sticking in the ground right in front of the carthorse. The horse reared, its whinny piercing the air as Geoffrey leaned backwards on his seat, pulling back the reigns.

"Outlaws!" Geoffrey cried, fumbling to draw his sword still seated.

"Not just any outlaws," Much said as he came out from hiding. The gang also appearing from behind trees and under bushes. "We are Robin Hood's men!" Much smiled as he brandished his sword and shield.

Robin smiled, "And as such, we want you to give something like a speech to the people you have been cheating. We know you're working for the Sheriff, now we just want everyone else to know it too… from your own mouth." Robin smiled, raising his eyebrows, "We'll also be relieving you of your ill-gotten gains, now that the people won't be fearing the undead vampires any longer."

Geoffrey's face blanched in panic, he turned to first look over his treasures and then to his guards. "Well?" Geoffrey's nasally voice cracking in fear, "Do something!"

One guard rode forward, alongside the cart. "Well, Hood," the guard's voice deep and gravelly, "I set a trap for one man who's cheating the Sheriff, and I catch Nottingham's most wanted outlaw in my snare as well." The guard removed his helmet, and Guy's smirking face glared down at Robin as he drew his sword.

"Give up, Hood. Give up, or I kill the purveyor," Guy pointed his sword's point right towards Geoffrey's wide middle, burying it slightly into his clothes and then deeper into his waist.

Geoffrey whined, "No, please." Then he looked at Robin, "You there, I'll tell you everything… I'll… I'll give you everything I have with me if you just let me live." He folded his hands together, his voice shaking in fear, "Please don't let him k-kill m-me…"

Robin began taking a step closer and watched as Guy's smirk hardened in anger as he dug his sword deeper into Geoffrey, the purveyor's whine growing louder in pain. "I'm not joking, Hood. Nothing will stop me, and there is nowhere for you to run."

"On the contrary, Gisborne," Robin responded, fingering the arrow that lay slack against his bowstring. "You have only two other soldiers with you, and I," Robin paused as he drew his bow, "I have my whole gang with me."

Guy didn't back off, instead he began to chuckle and shake his head, "You never learn, do you Hood?" Guy nodded to something in the distance, and troops began to file through the forest, surrounding Robin's gang and the cart.

Robin circled around, his eyes wide as he assessed the new numbers. He smiled: ten to five was still an even fight. "You know, Gisborne, I've never been a quick learner. Not when it comes to knowing my place, apparently."

Guy laughed, throwing his head back. "Your place is hanging from the gallows along with your cohorts. How long will it take for you to realize you have nothing left, Hood. I run your lands, I control your money, I am the lord of your people…" a smirk crossed his face even wider, "… and I will take your former betrothed and marry her right before your eyes, Hood."

Robin felt his face grow dark with anger; Marian would never let that happen. She would never even come close to giving her life to this man. Give herself to this… monster. Just the thought of it…

"I doubt that Gisborne," Robin drew his bow again. With a soundless breath, the arrow flew through the air, knocking Guy's sword out of his hands with a metallic clang. Guy quickly turned to face Geoffrey and jumped from his horse onto the cart next to the man. "Get them!" he screamed at his soldiers.

Robin ran forward, he had to save the purveyor or else all would be lost. He could see his gang all easily defeating the soldiers, John and Will knocking out three guards then grabbing the large chests filled with money from the back of the cart. Robin smiled and drew out his scimitar, racing towards a pair of guards that stood between him and the cart. With a solid thud, Robin punched the first in the face and spun around to slash the second in the shoulder. He paused to look at the cart.

He saw Guy punch the purveyor once across the face, reaching around in his belt to pull out his dagger. Guy's face drew back in a cold sneer, placing the dagger against Geoffrey Minor's fat neck, "None of your relics or herbs can stop this vampire attack, purveyor." Robin ran faster, his mind blank with only the thought to save the man. He reached to his quiver, pulling out his last arrow and plying it to his bow.

But it was too late. Robin watched as red blood sprayed from the purveyor's neck, Guy's dagger-blade dripping red. Guy pushed the body from the cart, landing in a ditch beside the road. He turned to face Robin, his look of victory etched across his face. But then from behind him, Guy heard a deep, "ahem." He turned only to be punched from the cart by John, landing flat on his back between his horse and the cart.

John grabbed the reigns, "Robin. We go now."

"I couldn't agree more," Robin laughed as he jumped on the seat along side his friend. With the gang all aboard, John whipped the horse into a run, leaving behind the injured soldiers and a stunned Guy still crippled on the ground.

Guy tried to get to his feet, pausing on his knees and clutching his injured cheek. "Get after them!" he yelled to his men. The soldiers ran off on foot after the cart, leaving Guy alone on the road with his horse. He shook his head to clear out the pain, raising himself to his feet.

Guy stood beside his horse, hoisting himself into his saddle. He turned his horse to chase the cart. "At least I cut out the middleman, just as the Sheriff wanted," he thought. "And now I'll be able to sleep through the night once again."


	12. Chapter 12

Guy rode back to the castle, dismounting from his black horse in the courtyard. A carriage stood still at the base of the steps, and Guy remembered the Council of Nobles meeting that day with a groan. He began walking towards the castle stairs when he paused between the carriage and the castle. Sir Edward alighted and nodded his greeting to Guy. Guy held his breath, hoping that Sir Edward was not alone today.

Sure enough, Marian poked her head out from the carriage. Guy moved quickly towards her and offered his hand to help her down.

Marian inhaled sharply and looked at his gloved hand before her. "Thank you, Sir Guy," she spoke quietly, placing her hand in his, hastily stepping from the carriage and away from him.

Guy held on tightly to her hand although she tried to pull away. She paused and turned to face him.

"My pleasure, Lady Marian," he murmured through his slight smile. Then he bent to kiss her hand.

Marian clenched her jaw as she felt his lips brush her skin. He straightened and looked into her eyes, "I hope you come to visit Locksley again soon, Marian, and this time I could give you a proper welcome."

She forced a smile, "That's very generous of you Sir Guy, but I must get to my father now, so if you'd please…" She untangled her hand from his, smiled, and walked up the stairs to the castle.

A low chuckle surprised Guy who spun around to face the sound behind him. The Sheriff's devious grin froze Guy in place. "Another woman for your wooing, Gisborne?"

Guy nervously smiled, "It would seem so, Sheriff."

The Sheriff began walking towards the steps, and then he turned around to face Guy with a wave of his hand. "Well, in that case, the phrase, 'once bitten, twice shy' means nothing to you, does it, Gisborne?"


End file.
